


let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters

by pennysparkle



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M, Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparkle/pseuds/pennysparkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kinemon said you looked cold,” Sanji finally said. “I told him you always have that dumb expression on your face, but he didn’t listen.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters

They were a little over a day out from Punk Hazard, and the weather still hadn’t normalized. Zoro, being a man of certain stature and mass, generally managed to avoid the worst of cold temperatures, but he couldn’t shake what had remained from the island. It felt like his veins were frozen, his joints were stiff, and he had goosebumps in places where he didn’t even know they could exist.

Sanji, of course, was taking every opportunity to call him an old man, and it had resulted in a premium of bickering and fights: over dinner the night before, during the designated mid-afternoon quiet time, and when everyone else was trying to get to sleep. Nami had started threatening to throw the both of them overboard, but at the very least, simpering at her distracted Sanji from starting more shit.

Zoro was a little sick of it. The cold was too damn much, the shitty cook was too damn much, and he just wanted to be _warm_ again.

He’d been keeping watch in the crow’s nest, where he was somewhat sheltered from the cold at the very least - though to be more accurate, he’d been napping in between fits of full-body shivers. The trap door banged open and he grumpily cracked his eye to see Sanji carrying something lumpy and blue in his arms, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Zoro prepared for a fight.

It all drained out of him when Sanji tossed the lumpy blue thing at Zoro’s face. He glanced down at it as it fell in his lap with plenty of jingling.

“The hell’s this, perverted cook?”

Sanji shrugged, and finished inhaling on his cigarette before answering. _All in his sweet time_ , thought Zoro. _His pace the whole damn way_.

“Kinemon said you looked cold,” Sanji finally said. “I told him you always have that dumb expression on your face, but he didn’t listen.”

Zoro looked down at the lump. With some rearranging, it revealed itself to be a sweater striped with burgundy, dark green, and little golden bells that had been the source of all the racket.

“Put it on, or I’ll kick your ass. I went through all the trouble to bring it up to you when I could be in the kitchen with Nami-swan making hot chocolate!” His voice had steadily risen in volume until he was practically shouting.

“I’ll put it on, don’t get your eyebrow too curled,” Zoro said. He pulled it on over his head, though it got caught on his haramaki when he tried to tug it down. It jingled cheerily, and he scowled. He had to admit it was nice and warm, though.

Sanji was cackling loudly at him between choking on smoke. “It looks good on you! Let’s go show everyone else how stupid you look!”

There ensued a scuffle then, much back and forth between shoe and swords, until Sanji opened up the hatch and unceremoniously booted Zoro down to the deck below, jingling all the way.

The crash didn’t attract any attention, except from Law, Kinemon, and Momonosuke, their mouths all hanging slightly open. Zoro let out a loud groan and started to sit up before Sanji dropped down right on top of him.

He’d probably feel the imprint of Sanji’s bony ass in his gut for the rest of the week, is all he was saying.

Once Sanji had stood, Zoro rolled over onto all fours and pushed himself up. His thumb went to Wadou, preparing to draw it against Sanji, but Kinemon had made his way over, chortling all the while.

“My sweater looks wonderful on you, that it does!”

Zoro turned his glare on Kinemon. “You made it?”

“He said you were cold, that he did!” Kinemon said. “So he had me make a couple sweaters! Wore that one himself, so I didn’t know it was for you. I might have had the foresight to make it a bit bigger, that I might.”

Zoro turned around, ready to kill the shitty cook where he stood, but Sanji was nowhere to be seen.

He suffered through the indignity of wearing it for the rest of the evening. Usopp and Luffy had laughed at him all through dinner, Robin had taken to calling him _Kitten-chan_ , and Brook kept intentionally nudging him so that he’d jingle. Nami was maintaining that she’d forget about it entirely if he paid her ten thousand beli. Franky wanted to attach rocket launchers on the shoulder. Sanji just sputtered laughter any time he caught the barest glimpse of Zoro. And after dinner, Chopper had sat down in his lap and began to doze against the soft, worn yarn.

“Have some green tea, bastard,” Sanji said. Everyone had left the kitchen but him, Zoro, and Chopper, who was now deep asleep in Zoro’s lap. He shoved a cup into Zoro’s hand, then busied himself with wiping down the table.

Zoro drank it in a couple burning gulps. At that point, it was easy to start falling asleep himself, warm from the tea, full from dinner, and toasty in his hideous sweater.

A hand came down on his shoulder, and the next thing he knew, warm, dry lips were pressing against his.

His eye snapped open and he looked around, bewildered and convinced that he’d dreamed the kiss, but sure enough, Sanji was holding his hand over his mouth and looking shocked.

“I slipped!” Sanji said defensively. “I just needed to get the cup. It’s not like I’d want to kiss _you_ , shitty bastard!”

Zoro grunted and sat up straighter in the chair. “Whatever. I’m taking Chopper to bed.” He stood, balancing Chopper in one arm, and headed for the door. Sanji followed him aimlessly, seeming discontent, and Zoro stopped abruptly to grab a bottle of sake from the stash.

Sanji bumped into his back.

“Problem?” Zoro asked.

Sanji quirked one of his swirly eyebrows up and shook his head slowly, so Zoro leaned in and dropped his own kiss on Sanji’s lips.

“Thanks for the sweater,” Zoro said as he nudged open the door. “Even if it looks like shit. It’s warm.”

Sanji smiled, but he pressed it into his hand so no one could know but him.


End file.
